Second Star to the Right
by The Solar Surfer
Summary: A family is torn apart by a dark secret they must keep from the world. A girl with the desire for truth and finally earning her mother's favor will do anything it takes to rescue her brother, who's been taken to Neverland. But this isn't just about Magic - it's getting her family to admit its real. Peter Pan has his own interests with the family, and he's not about to let them go.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, new story. I had really only gotten this one chapter down, but its been a popular subject for the fans so I thought I'd give it a try. Besides, I love Peter Pan from OUAT, and this plot bunny was going wild. So here you go! This is more of a prologue than anything else, but tell me what you think! Interested in more?**

**Read and review!**

* * *

Chapter One

"I believe."

Two simple words. Two simple words and a faraway wish. That was all it took for the glowing-eyed specter to fly through the window and gaze upon the two children sitting on their beds, frozen in fear. The shadow looked from the boy to the girl, wondering who it should take.

The boy, older of the two, was also closer to the window. He gasped, blue eyes wide as the shadow took him by the arm and lifted him in the air. He tried to pull away but the shadow was by far the stronger one. Feet waggling over the carpet, he cried out as the Shadow pulled him out the window.

His sister raced to the window, trying to grab her brother before he got too far out of reach. She screamed just as his hand slipped from her grasp. "Matty! Matty!"

But he was gone.

OoOoO

Mathias returned three days later. By then, his disappearance had reached international papers.

And why not? When the beloved, blue-eyed and blond-haired firstborn of Hollywood's star actress suddenly vanishes in the middle of the night, people notice. The claims of his four-year-old sister, the only witness to the crime, told of a "Shadow Man" coming in and flying away with her brother...well, they did little to ease the public of the image of some monster who snatched innocent children from their beds. Everyone was up in arms, determined to find this kidnapper, this man so cruel he could not even be considered human, who would attempt such a daring act in front of the boy's impressionable younger sister, who was left traumatized.

But that was the problem. No one believed that it was an _actual_ shadow that flew in through the window, that he was see-through with glowing gold eyes. Investigators thought she was merely confused, that her little mind was trying to rationalize what she saw and protect her own innocence from the truth. And no matter how much she stuck to this story, no one was convinced; in fact, it was recommended that she should see a child therapist.

When Matthias returned on the third night, seemingly of his own accord (but his sister had witnessed the Shadow bringing him in back through the window), everyone expected answers. Who took him? Where did he go? Why was he covered in dirt and had scratches all over his face? Who was this so-called Shadow Man? Was he real?

Matthias was accompanied by his mother and sister to the interview. The woman with the blue dress, a famous news reporter, talked with a sharp and loud voice to the camera, but changed to something soft and sweet and condescending to the eight-year-old boy in the chair. She peppered him with questions, mostly about how he was feeling during the various hours of his experience missing. Was he ever scared, afraid, etc?

Then came the all important question, the one his sister (and the millions watching the live feed) was waiting for: "Who came through that window, Matthias? Was it a man? Or was it...something else?"

The woman in the blue dress spoke in a low, dramatic voice, as if she were in one of their mother's movies. Matthias just looked at her blankly before glancing up at his mother, apparently hesitating with his answer. She nodded once and the boy looked back at the reporter and said, "No. It was just a man, he climbed through the window..."

"LIAR!" his sister shouted from across their mother's legs on the other side of the couch. The girl jabbed a little chubby finger at him. "You're lying! Liar, liar, pants on fire!"

"Mallory, be quiet!" her mother chastised, hissing at the girl with a furious scowl. "And sit down!"

"But he's lying, Mommy!" the girl cried up at the woman, tears filling the little girl's eyes. Why didn't her own mother believe her? She was telling the truth, like she was taught to! "I was there, I saw it! He's lying!"

"No, I'm not!" Matthias shot back, bottom lip trembling. He didn't want to make a scene in front of these grown-ups - Mommy would yell at him afterwards. "I'm not a liar!"

"Yes you are!"

"No I'm not!"

The interview went downhill from there. The reporter tried to laugh it off as silly sibling rivalry, but it was clear that no amount of rationalizing was going to help. Matthias started to cry at the accusations and his sister cried along with him and there was nothing to console either of them in time to save the show. The family had to leave early and a heavily edited version of the interview was given to the public, while the extended version was leaked online. The children were paparazzi fodder for weeks afterwards.

But Matthias Farthing and his family kept a very dark secret, a secret his mother made sure he'd never tell. A secret so dangerous that it was better for the world to think that little girl was crazy and sick rather than risk the truth getting free.

Because Magic was real. And it was alive within the Farthing family, no matter how hard they pretended to be normal. Or, at least, the mother and son had to be. As it turned out, the crazy little sister _had _no Magic. She was born normal.

A few years later, Mallory Farthing truly believed that the rumors and the nightmares would finally be over, that by the time she became an adult, no one would remember her to be crazy. Her life was finally settling in, she could live out her life in peace, in the shadows of her mother and older brother's careers.

Of course, little did she know, the adventure had barely even started.

Because thirteen years later, Matthias would disappear again. And this time, she followed him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter two! I didn't expect it to be this long, I guess it just took awhile to establish some of the characters. I'm glad some of you are receiving this story so well, I wasn't entirely sure how good it first was. But hey, it's working out so far!**

**Three guesses as to what the family power is...I left hints, but it won't be obvious until later.**

**Read and review!**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Being famous and having secret magical powers is not the most favorable combination to live with.

Not that Mallory would know. Mallory didn't have powers. But the rest of her family did, and it was her job to set an example for the rest of them to follow. Be normal. Act normal. Smile at the cameras like you had nothing to hide but your home address, phone number, and personal emails. Don't answer the questions they shout at you, just look at the woman Mother's agent said to talk to and speak into the microphone. A minute at most, that's all it'll take before you have to keep moving. Wash, rinse, repeat. In an hour you get to sit down and watch the awards play out, bored out of your mind.

Mallory narrated inside her head as her family crossed the red carpet. She waved at the cameras, gave them a manufactured smile (those teeth cleaning strips did wonders, but lately she couldn't taste as much as she used to) and went on her way. She didn't have to worry about costume catastrophes or tripping in heels that were the length of her hand...No, this was a casual event. Mallory could wear her flat shoes and a loose blouse, nothing tight or obstructive or liable to nip-slips.

She was last in line to her mother and brother ahead and she took her time with the interviews, denying rumors and letting out a few production secrets the public wasn't allowed to know before Shari realized what she was doing and yanked the girl away from the demanding and disappointed paparazzi.

"What did I tell you about leaking information to the public?" Shari demanded as she frog-marched the girl inside the grandiose building. Marble columns, fifty foot windows, crystal chandeliers, the whole shebang. "That is breaking your confidentiality agreement with the company! You could get your mother in trouble!"

"Heaven forbid," Mallory said under her breath as they were let through a security gate. One of the guards gave her a passing smile. Oh, he knew.

Shari, her mother's PR agent, had the proverbial leash around Mallory's neck. She was the unofficial babysitter (and a bad one, too) for the children of a famous actress. Shari navigated the seat of tables and seats in the grand hall towards her mother and brother, all ready sitting down. The stage ahead was dark – Mallory had plenty of time, she didn't know why Shari was so neurotic with her tardiness.

Her mother didn't even acknowledge Mallory when she sat down on her right. Matthias was on her other side, picking at the floral centerpiece with apparent boredom. Only their mother looked attentive, facing the stage with an indiscernible expression. Mallory could never tell what her mother was really thinking. She tried to tell herself she didn't really care, but that would be an awful lie.

No one said anything to her. Mallory was fine with that. She played on her phone, pretending to look interested as the lights dimmed and the music started, but ten minutes in she was already getting tired. She just wanted to go home and read. She wanted to bring one of the new ones with her, but Sheri wouldn't allow it – if anyone saw the book Mallory carried, they would believe it to be product placement, that someone paid her to carry it around and pretend to read it. While Mallory personally didn't care _what_ the media really thought because the public themselves were usually decent people (usually), Sheri kind of had a point. But now she just wished she stayed home. She could've just watched this on TV and the experience wouldn't have been any better.

Her mother had been nominated for an award. The woman had starred in one of those films about a woman in the Revolutionary War. The True Story of Molly Pitcher. A box office hit. Critics praised it. Audiences loved it. Mallory crossed her fingers that it wouldn't be her mother, that for the first time maybe these award shows could surprise her.

"And the award for Best Actress in Motion Picture Drama goes to...!" the woman said on stage, fiddling with the flap on the letter. Mallory recognized her from the _Batman_ movies. "Helena Farthing!"

The room was filled with the sound of clapping as her mother gave the tiniest of smiles and stood up. Of course, her mother knew this would happen; she didn't even have to act surprised. As Mallory watched her go up on stage, she received a nudge in the side and Sheri hissing in her ear, "Clap! The cameras are on you!"

Mallory rolled her eyes and started half-heartedly putting her hands together. Why should she clap? She wasn't proud of her mother. She wasn't glad she won the award. Pretending to be happy just felt like another lie.

After that, the show couldn't end fast enough. By the time the awards had all been given out and everyone was filing out of the room, exchanging hugs and kisses as they went, Mallory was one of the first people out the door. She was only briefly halted by some "friends" of her mother, sharing the congratulations with the child of the famous actress. Then again on the red carpet, heading towards the long line of limos, she was caught by a rogue group of photographers who wanted her to take her shirt off. Mallory kicked them away and ducked inside the door as it was opened by the chauffeur.

Mallory waited inside the car for her family. That took another thirty minutes as the red carpet was lit up once more with celebrities and interviewers. Mallory kind of just wanted the chauffeur to drive off without them, that they could probably just buy another limo from someone else, but Sheri would probably kill her.

When Matthias finally slid into the seat opposite hers, he cast her a smirk and said, "Well, don't look _too_ happy. There's still the after party to go to."

Mallory groaned, throwing her head back against the seat. "Oh, come on, seriously?"

"We always have one!" Matthias protested, apparently not understanding why she was so against the idea. "And you always hide in your room, so what's the big deal?"

He had a point, but that didn't change the fact that Mallory hated after parties. It was like the universe's way of wheedling out more agony from her. It's reminder to her that no matter what she did, Mallory could not escape her mother's influence.

"Never mind," Mallory muttered, sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms as their mother finally entered the car and tapped the glass window to the chauffeur and let him know that now was the time to leave. "Just keep it downstairs, all right?"

"Pfft, whatever," came Matthias' reply, which pretty much meant that her request would go completely ignored.

Her mother glanced at Mallory but her expression remained unchanged: blank, cold, indiscernible – the look she always had when the woman wasn't acting. Mallory wondered if she should bring up the concern with her mother, but it was likely that her attitude would roll in favor of Matthias, as it always did. She let Mallory's brother do what he pleased, when he pleased. This mostly involved parties and concerts and clubs, because Matthias didn't really do much else, but ever since he turned twenty one, the urge to go out and drink with his friends went up 500%. Not that their mother ever monitored his drinking before, Matthias was just happy he didn't have to keep buying new fake IDs anymore. They were incredibly expensive and took a huge chunk out of his 'allowance'.

Matthias didn't work. Neither did Mallory. They had credit cards for their mother's account, the only person in their family that worked. Being as successful as she was, Helena Farthing had plenty of money to go around. Matthias could literally buy his own car if he wanted to, but it was only Sheri that could keep him from doing such stupid things. Could he even really drive? Mallory couldn't remember. He got into so many accidents and tickets that it was hard to figure out what state his license was in at the moment.

And completely ignored it did, as a few hours later Mallory found herself locked in her own room because she was worried someone might open it by accident and decide her bed was an excellent place to start making out. Not even a bathroom break could be risked – more than once has Mallory came back to find a Do Not Disturb sign on her own bedroom door, with the sound of strangers knocking down her trophy shelf coming through the wood.

So even though Mallory had to go really bad, she decided to wait it out. She had done it before, she could do it again. Because the pounding bass was rocking her floor, Mallory tried to listen to her own music at full blast in her headphones. It worked for the most part, but the vibrations from her brother's giant subwoofers were starting to make her feel sick.

Listening and reading to music at the same time. Her head could acknowledge the lyrics and read the words at the same time without getting confused as to what she should be focusing on. So Mallory just lied on her bed and played on her laptop, trying to pass the time as she went over her math homework. It wasn't due in several days, but because Mallory had nothing else to do, what with the entire house under siege, she figured it was best just to get it over now.

What her mother could possibly be doing at this moment, Mallory had no idea. The image of her mother dancing to the rap music made Mallory laugh so hard she cried. What face would her mother be making at the moment, listening to that music Matthias listened to? Would she be bobbing her head, tapping her foot to the beat? No, that woman's actions were too carefully controlled, too self-aware for her to ever do something as silly as that.

But even she allowed Mallory to do the things she liked, so perhaps the woman was completely terrible.

Mallory had her license. She could drive away at any moment, if she so chose. But the depressing thought came when she realized that she _had_ no place to go to, no safe haven to hide. No family (out of state). No real friends because she didn't go to public school (that would make it too easy for the paparazzi to get her). She could always call Cecily – the daughter of one of Helena Farthing's friends, so Mallory's friends by default. But Cecily was a lot like Matthias in that she loved to party and drink and talk about things Mallory didn't like talking about: celebrities, boyfriends, and the plan to write songs and become famous in her own right. Cecily hasn't ever actually _written _a song, mostly because she was too hung over to remember what she did in the morning.

But Mallory was desperate for someone to talk to, so she called Cecily. Surprise, surprise, Cecily was at a party, if the loud noise in the background was any indication. Cecily was yelling into her phone, "HEY, GIRL! WHAT'S UP?"

Mallory had to shout back just to be heard. "I'm fine! Just bored, you know?"

"OH, I KNOW!" Cecily shouted back. The receiver crackled with her voice. "You should do what I do, and get in on the party scene! It's totally hot right now!"

"No, thanks," Mallory replied. There was a knock on her door. Mallory decided to get up and check, figuring whoever was behind it actually wanted to see her if they were being so polite. "Where are you right now?"

Just as she opened the door, Cecily cried, "I'm right here!" and burst into her room, catching Mallory in a big hug.

"Ah!" Mallory, surprised, stumbled back and lost her balance. They fell against the bed, Cecily caught up in a drunken fit of laughter. Her wild, curly blond hair was all over the place. She was covered in glitter and her dress was all askew. Mallory managed to kick the door closed before anyone else could come inside. "God, you scared me!"

Cecily giggled and waved the phone in her hand. "Surprise! Bet you didn't think I was actually here, did you?"

"No," Mallory admitted, even though now that she thought about it, the music coming through her phone _had_ sounded very familiar. "Please tell me you're not drunk."

"Well, it wouldn't be as much fun if I wasn't!" Cecily said. She was still slumped on the floor, giving Mallory a big grin. "Besides, I had to make sure my best friend was doing all right! It's not healthy to live as a hermit in your own house, you know. You've got to have a social life."

"You fill up my quota of social life, all on your own," Mallory replied, getting up to lock the door. Just in time, too, because someone had started banging against it. Probably people making out, or getting in a fight. Neither did she want in her room. "Really, you're all I can take as far as this is concerned. My head would explode otherwise."

"Aw, you're such a sweetie pie!" Cecily said, finally managing to pick herself up. She was wobbly on her high heels, straps all loose and her feet almost hanging out of him. Mallory had to catch her before she fell. Cecily just rested her head on Mallory's shoulder and patted the girl's back. "You are my rock, Mal. No one knows me the way you do."

"That's the alcohol talking," Mallory replied, trying not to feel too guilty as she set Cecily safely down on the bed. Mallory didn't like Cecily as much as Cecily liked her. Mallory certainly wouldn't consider Cecily a best friend, even if she was the only one Mallory had. For the longest time, Mallory thought of their experience as putting up with Cecily. She didn't really think Cecily was capable of a deep, meaningful relationship with anyone.

"No, I'm being serious!" The girl giggled and flopped onto her back, looking up at the ceiling, painted dark blue with glow-in-the-dark stars. "Oooh, pretty! But, Mal, really, you're my best friend. You're, like, my permanent designated driver – for life! I wouldn't trust anyone else."

"Still drunk," Mallory replied, going around the bed and opening the window to let in some fresh air. Could she really think of Cecily as her best friend?

"Get your butt over here, girl," Cecily ordered, pointing down at the bed and not allowing for any objection. Mallory just rolled her eyes and obliged. "You know what they say about alcohol. It brings the best out."

"I think you mean the truth," Mallory said, helping Cecily out of her shoes before she could hurt herself again. The things had six inch heels and looked like torture devices. How could Cecily even _stand_ them? She'd be on her toes the entire time. "And that's just an urban legend. Alcohol just takes away your inhibitions, makes you unafraid of societal consequences."

"You've been reading Wikipedia again!" Cecily accused. "You don't trust alcohol but you trust that site? Hypocrite!"

"Guilty as charged," Mallory wasn't particularly afraid of Cecily's wrath. The girl was far too-laid back, too happy-go-lucky to truly get angry and do something about it. Cecily had never thrown a punch in her life. For that matter, neither had Mallory. "And yet you still trust me."

"That I do," Cecily nodded sagely, adjusting the neckline of her dress before it could reveal anything scandalous. "I can trust you with my deepest, darkest secrets."

_But you can never know mine_. Mallory bit her lip and remained silent. As funny as Cecily was, she had the incredible ability of making Mallory feel incredibly guilty. But she could never tell Cecily the truth about her family, even if it didn't apply to Mallory herself. All the same, she had to carry the same burden as her brother and mother. "That's nice."

"Would you?" Cecily asked.

"Would I what?" Mallory pretended not to know what she was talking about.

"Would you trust me with your deepest, darkest secrets?" Cecily got up on her elbows and fixed Mallory with a long stare.

"Of course I'd tell you," Mallory replied, forcing a smile.

Cecily beamed at her in return, then lunged forward and enveloped Mallory in another big hug. "Aw, you're the best! I can't say that about everyone, you know. Jordan and Kaley are such bee-yotches, you know?"

"Uh, sure," Mallory didn't really talk to Jordan or Kaley because they were a lot like Cecily, but only if you left out all the good parts and made the bad parts worse. They were snide and cruel and spread rumors about people they didn't like. Mallory did her best to avoid them at all costs. Where they downstairs right now? She hoped no. "Can't trust a word they say."

"That's right!" Cecily finally let go, allowing more room in Mallory's ribcage to breathe. "I believe they'd be totally better people if they knew you like I did!"

Something flashed in the corner of her eye. Mallory looked up, surprised, at her window. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Cecily looked in the same direction, frowning curiously at the window. "Did you see something?"

"I think so," Mallory grew concerned. Was there someone scaling the walls now? It happened before. She got up and approached the window, pushing aside the curtains. She peeked her head out, checking above and below for anyone that might be climbing the vines. No one. Frowning to herself, Mallory pulled her head back in and glanced at Cecily. "There's nothing. Must just be my imagination."

But Mallory swore she saw something before. She wasn't going to tell Cecily, because she wouldn't believe it. Not without proof. What was it that she saw? It had been a flicker of movement, dark and fast, like a shadow. Maybe people on the roof.

"Weird," Cecily snorted, casting Mallory a wry look. "Hey, maybe you're going crazy again."

"Please, let's not," Mallory said before Cecily could talk about the past. Mallory had tried her hardest to forget, to put it behind her. She didn't need it to be resurfaced by a drunk teenager who didn't really understand what had happened. "I really think you should be going home. You are way too drunk to be going home."

"Aw, noooo!" Cecily whined, flopping on her bed as though she were going to make Mallory physically drag her out of the room. "I don't want to go home. There's just going to be another party there, and then I'll get even _more_ drunk. Can I stay here, with you, Mal?"

"No," Mallory replied, keeping her tone short.

"Plllleeeeaaaassseee?" Cecily said, making big puppy-dog eyes at her, pouting her lips and doing her best impression of a drunken, sparkly bloodhound.

"Oh, fine!" Mallory threw her hands up in the air, giving in to the cutesy look. Cecily was a professional. "But you're staying in here, away from the alcohol. No more drinking!"

"Scout's honor!" Cecily declared, holding up three fingers together.

"You were never a Girl Scout," Mallory frowned at her.

Cecily gave her a cheeky grin. "I know. I hoped you wouldn't remember."

"Bed!" Mallory cried, helping Cecily up. She wasn't sacrificing her own soft mattress for Cecily, but she had a couch in her room that the drunk girl could sleep on for the night. Mallory never had a sleepover before, never been to one, but she was pretty sure the normal ones didn't turn out like this. "Come on, put the phone away! The faster you get to sleep, the faster you can get over your hangover."

"Ugh, fine, _Mom_," Cecily said in a mocking tone, rolling her eyes as she handed Mallory her phone. "God, you're such a killjoy."

"Uh-huh, and you're not going to puke on my carpet," Mallory replied, pocketing the phone and getting Cecily to lay down on the couch. She went to her closet and fetched a pillow and blanket, then helped the girl get tucked in. Cecily looked mighty smug about the whole matter.

"Wait!" she grabbed Mallory's wrist before she could leave. "You have to read me a bedtime story!"

Mallory stared down at her. "You're joking."

"No! Come on, you already tucked me in like a baby, now I need a story to help me sleep!" Cecily said, completely serious. Mallory couldn't believe she was being so passionate about the matter. Was she like this sober, too? "Please! You have so many books! At least one of them has to have fairy tales!"

She kind of had a point. But Mallory hadn't read fairy tales since she was in elementary school (before she started getting tutors), and she wasn't sure if she had even kept the books. But with three bookshelves in her room, Mallory was sure she could find something that could shut Cecily up. She would read _A Song of Ice and Fire_ if she absolutely had to.

It took her only two shelves to find an old book stuffed under some newer ones. Its binding was covered in dust, the pages old and somewhat rough from the inordinate amount of times Mallory read it when she was little. She blew off the dust, coughed, and brought it back to the couch where Cecily had settled herself in, crossing her arms behind her head and giving Mallory a self-satisfied smile. "Okay, I'm ready for the story."

Mallory just shook her head and sat on the armrest of the couch, letting the book fall open in her lap. It went to a random page. "What one do you want to hear?"

"Not one about princesses, bleh," Cecily made a face.

"But that's, like, _all_ of them," Mallory complained, closing her book in frustration.

"No, it's not!" Cecily replied, scowling at her. "Come on, use your imagination! There has to be at least one story that doesn't have knights, or princesses, or castles or anything like that. Those ones are so boring and clichéd. Come on, just look!"

"Ugh, fine," Mallory reopened her book and scanned the index. _The Princess and the Pea_. Nope. _The Swan Princess_. No again. _Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, Rapunzel, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, The Snow Queen, Aladdin, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table..._no, no, and no! It wasn't until she neared the end of the list did she exclaim, "Oh! Here we go, Peter Pan! That doesn't have princesses or knights or castles. How about that?"

"Go for it."

"Alright then," Mallory was relieved to find something that pleased Cecily. She turned to the page in the book and began to read. "Peter Pan. All this has happened before. And it will all happen again. But this time, it happened in London. It happened on a quiet street in Bloomsbury. That corner house at the end of the street, with its lights all ablaze, is the home of the Darling family, and Peter Pan chose this particular house, because there were people here who believed in him..."

There came a loud, grating sound that made Mallory jump and look around in surprise. But it was only Cecily, dead asleep and snoring like a lawn mower. Considering her job here done, Mallory snapped the book closed and tossed it back onto her shelf. The music had died down downstairs – the party-goers were leaving, or perhaps falling asleep in whatever available space they could find. Matthias would probably be passed out on the pool lawn chairs, surrounded by beer and pretty girls.

Mallory yawned so wide it cracked her jaw. She decided that perhaps now was a good time to sleep, maybe she would wake up in the morning and find everything clean and tidy, as if no one had been there. She flopped on her bed and fell asleep where she lied.

But as soon as her eyes closed and dreams filled her head, the curtains to her open window rustled. Just a little rustle, like a soft breeze blowing in.

Then from the darkness a dark form with glowing eyes peered in. It glanced at the two sleeping girls, entirely uninterested, before gliding through the room and slipping out the crack under the door. Cecily stirred at the sound of the door rattling, but did not rise from her slumber.

And when the girls would wake again, it would be far too late.


	3. Chapter 3

**The responses so far have made me so excited for this story. As for the question I asked last chapter - Guest (whatever your name is), you're close, but not exactly. Their powers are _why_ they're famous, rich, etc. but luck doesn't have much to do with it. Keep trying!**

**Anyways, read and review!**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"Has anyone seen Matthias?"

That was the most often question asked the next morning. Mallory didn't think much of it at first – after all, the mansion was big, the land expansive, and so many hungover bodies on the floor that he could've been any one of them.

It was Mallory's job to make sure they got off her property. She called it her property because she felt responsible for taking care of it, although that job was technically the housekeeper and her team of maids and butlers, but all of _them_ had made themselves scarce during the party last night, and had yet to show their faces again.

She nudged bodies and shifted them aside once she knew they weren't dead (an ambulance was rarely called, and this party was actually one of the less wild ones Matthias had this past year). She called the limo service, the taxi service, anyone awake and sober enough to drive to get these bozos off her lawn. She made a half-hearted search for her brother but was really more concerned about getting these people out of here.

It wasn't until late afternoon, when the grounds were cleared, did Mallory start to get worried. Really worried. The police were called. Black and white cars appeared on their lawn, people started getting interviewed. Mallory waited by the pool – she was the first to be interviewed but since she wasn't actually _at_ the party, she didn't really know anything. It bothered her to no end to be the responsible one – but being one of the only people who _couldn't_ help the police find her missing brother.

Cecily, having woke up at about noon and still a little hung-over, flopped down beside Mallory and let her feet hit the water. It splashed over them but Mallory didn't even flinch. It was as if she were stuck in a state of shock. What had happened to Matthias?

"Hey, how you doin'?" Cecily asked, starting to play with Mallory's hair.

Cecily was actually the first person to ask Mallory that. During the interviews, Helena Farthing wouldn't speak in front of her daughter so Mallory had been left to her own thoughts. So she gave a smile to Cecily and said, "I don't know."

"Well, at least you're honest," Cecily sighed, running a hand through her hair. It was naturally curly, but it looked especially disastrous that morning, with glitter, Silly String and the stench of alcohol wafting all around her. She started to braid bits of Mallory's hair – her idea of therapy or stress relief in tense situations. "I don't know why the cops even bother with interviews, everyone here was too drunk to remember anything. Hell, I can't even figure out how I ended up on your couch last night. What even happened?"

"Nothing much," Mallory wasn't in the mood to recount her version of last night's events. "I put you to bed last night, read you a bedtime story. You were _really_ out of it."

Cecily threw her head back and laughed. Then she abruptly stopped and threw Mallory a sheepish look. "Ah, ha, I guess it's not that funny, is it?"

"It's all right. This whole _day_ has been super weird..." Mallory was about to continue when she heard voices to her left. She turned and saw two girls standing about twenty feet away, in bright party dresses, whispering to each other and sneaking glances at her and Cecily.

"Oh, god," Cecily looked over Mallory's shoulder and made a face. "It's Jordan and Kaley. I told you they were here last night. I bet they're talking about us, right now."

"Just ignore them," Mallory replied, turning back to face the water. This was her solution to most bully behavior (it never got physical because no one wanted to be demonized by the media for attacking a defenseless child of a famous actress). But Mallory should have known that Jordan and Kaley were professionals, that they didn't need to slap her to make Mallory feel like dirt. They could do it with words alone.

"What a freak_..._" one of them snickered. Mallory couldn't tell _which_ one was Jordan or Kaley because they looked so much alike – hair dyed the same color blond, nose rings and matching purses – but one had on a pink dress, the other yellow. The one in the yellow dress continued to speak, "She's not even sad that her brother is missing. She's not doing anything to help, either."

Mallory wanted to get up and shout at them, that she had done more in one day than they ever did in year. But that would turn this whole thing into one big scene and Mallory didn't want to become this side scandal to her brother's disappearance.

"You know what? I bet she did this," the one in the pink dress hissed behind a hand, yet still loud enough for Mallory to hear. "I mean, she's already half-crazy, and last night was the perfect time to make Matty disappear without anyone noticing."

"Oh-Em-Gee!" Yellow dress – who Mallory finally remembered to be Jordan – gasped, a hand flying to her mouth in mock horror. "You're so right! Did you see the open window in his room? I bet she _pushed_ him out!"

Mallory's hands turned to fists at her sides. She was shaking all over but she refused to give those girls the satisfaction that they had gotten to her. Caught up in her own frustration, Mallory hadn't even noticed Cecily had left her side before she heard loud shrieking and the sound of metal clattering to the ground.

She jumped, looking up in surprise. Cecily had left her side to grab the nearest thing she could find – a bowl of melted ice on a nearby refreshments table – and stomped up to Jordan and Kaley from behind and upending the contents over their head. In two seconds they were covered in freezing water, Italian designer dresses ruined, make up running, and leather bags ruined. Mallory actually found herself smiling as they screamed and cried and scurried away, hugging onto each other like they were each other's lifeline.

"Well," Cecily looked mighty proud of herself as she clapped her hands together and went back over to Mallory. "That was cathartic. C'mon, let's go to the bathroom, I need like a million pills for this headache."

Cecily led her by the arm inside the house. Only some of the bathrooms had medicine cabinets, and most of those were locked to keep idiots from overdosing on dietary pills. But Cecily knew this place well enough that she was able to locate one of the locked doors without too much trouble and had Mallory open it with her personal set of keys (because heaven forbid Mallory get locked out of her own home when there were a bunch of strangers trashing it).

As Cecily looked for the Tylenol, she told her, "You know I hate Jordan and Kaley as much as the next sane person, but you should really try to stand up to them next time. This was just a favor but I won't always be there to fight your battles, Malzipan."

Malzipan was an old nickname Mallory had in elementary school and had abandoned it since. She wasn't particularly fond of Cecily using it, either. "Please don't call me that."

Cecily glared at Mallory, speaking as though she never heard her say anything. "Why _didn't_ you say anything? I mean, you could've kicked them out, at least."

"I didn't want to make a scene." Mallory admitted, playing with the sink faucet and making the water turn on and off. "And no one leaves the property until the police approve it. I can't kick them out until after the police interrogated them. And I know they didn't, because Jordan and Kaley were stuck in the billiard room until one o' clock today."

Cecily snickered as she dropped a couple pills into her palm and grabbed a cup of water. "They're dumber than a bucket of rocks. There is no way you could actually push your brother out a window, he's way bigger than you. Where did they say that was again?"

"His bedroom," Mallory replied, then frowned as a thought crossed her mind. "Wait, that doesn't make any sense. His bedroom window's _can't_ open."

Cecily threw her a strange look as she swallowed her pills. "What are you talking about?"

The realization hit Mallory like a brick wall. Without another word, she jumped to her feet and burst out the bathroom, followed by a bewildered Cecily. She was still asking questions even as they made their way upstairs – Mallory answered none of them until she pushed open the door to Matthias' bedroom.

A cool breeze pushed the curtains aside and let sunlight into the room. Mallory looked around at the disaster zone – the floor was littered with clothes, both clean and dirty alike, alongside college textbooks and loose sheets of paper. She almost slipped on a skateboard hiding beneath a blanket, but Cecily caught her at the last second.

"Whoa," Cecily looked around and wrinkled her nose. "You're brother is a slob."

"I know," Mallory said, making her way to the open window and checking the sides. She stuck her arm out – the glass panes had been knocked out, every single one of them. There were a few shards on the ground around her, and she held out a hand to keep Cecily from coming closer in her bare feet. "Be careful, there's glass. Looks like someone tried punching out the window from the inside."

She peeked her head out. Yes, on the flower bushes below Mallory could see the reflections of broken glass. "Matthias' window doesn't have hinges."

"So?"

"So," Mallory turned to look at Cecily, throwing a hand at the window, "That's why this window shouldn't be open. It's _not_ open, someone just broke it. But they completely cleaned it out, too...there isn't any blood anywhere, doesn't look like some stupid dare. It's like-like a strong gust of wind just took it all out."

"From inside?" Cecily looked unconvinced.

"I don't know, it looks like it!" Mallory shrugged, not understanding it any better than her friend. This boggled her mind, too, and she was completely sober. "This might be where he fell out, or something, if that's how he disappeared."

"How could he fall?" Cecily pointed at the wooden bars that bisected the window. "He'd either have to jump or duck first. Is there anything on the ground?"

"No..." Mallory checked again. Aside from the glass, there was nothing to indicate that a tall, drunken boy had fallen out and crashed into the grass below. "Maybe he climbed up?"

But there were no vines, no lattices for him to do so. If Matthias had fallen out this window, then he never hit the ground

A jolt went through Mallory. _No, impossible_. It couldn't happen again. Matthias didn't even believe in fairy tales anymore, he was well into adulthood...well, not emotionally, but whatever. But what else could it be?

That's when she remembered the thing she saw last night. A silhouette, a shadow. _The_ Shadow?

She had left her window open. It could have gotten inside the house, blown out the window from the inside. Matthias, for whatever reason he was in his room during a massive party, had been there.

Mallory's heart skipped a beat. It was her fault Matthias was gone.

"Mal?" Cecily repeated for the third time, waving a hand in front of her face. "Earth to Mal! Are you there?"

"What?" Mallory shook her head, blinking rapidly and focusing on Cecily, who she couldn't remember why she was there. "I – I...I have to go find my mom!"

She ran out of Matthias' bedroom, leaving half of Cecily's questions still unanswered. Finding her mother wasn't that hard – she was still being interviewed in her office, a small, warm room with leather chairs and bookcases. It used to belong to their grandfather before Ms. Farthing took over. She was quietly talking to the two policemen when Mallory slammed into the doors and flung them wide open, causing all three adults to jump and turn around in surprise.

Mallory was quite a sight. Panting, wide-eyed, and looking more than a little upset, she probably had enough against her to be written off as crazy and sent off to the nearest mental facility. A huffing and puffing Cecily, who followed up behind her, red-faced and looking a little ill, did not make the image any more normal.

"Mom!" Mallory gasped, leaning against the doorframe as she tried to catch her breath. "Mom, I know who took him!"

Her mother just turned her head to look at her daughter, deigned her exclamation with a single blink. It was all the acknowledgement Mallory was going to get from her.

The policemen were much more enthusiastic about this news. They stood up, expressions alert, as they asked in unison, "Who was it? What did he look like?"

That must be regular police procedure. The two men exchanged glances with each other before waiting for Mallory's reply.

She still hadn't taken her gaze off her mother, who's expression remained absolutely devoid of any emotion. What was she thinking right now? "I saw him. I know it was him. It was the Shadow Man."

The policemen couldn't be less subtle in hiding their disappointment. Mallory realized only a second later how stupid she sounded, just as her mother stood up from her seat and spoke to the two cops in front of her. In a soft, smooth voice she told them, "I'm sorry, gentlemen. As you can clearly see, my son's disappearance has her very upset and irrational. After the events of today, I'm not surprised she has started to act out because of her inner fears. Disregard what she says; right now, she just needs rest."

"Mom!" Mallory shouted, at a loss for words. The only person who could possibly understand the gravity of the circumstances was now utterly ignoring them. Didn't she believe her? What was she going to do if the one magical person she knew wasn't going to do anything about it? "Mom, I'm being serious! He really was taken, I –"

"Mal," Cecily whispered, taking Mallory's arm and pulling her back. She knew as well as Mallory did that the situation was hopeless. "There's no point. C'mon, you're probably just tired..."

"Not you, too!" Mallory snapped, yanking her arm out of Cecily's grip. She immediately felt bad about it, at Cecily's hurt expression. "I'm sorry. I just – I just _can't_, right now, okay?"

"Mallory, wait!" Cecily called, but Mallory had already taken off running, tears streaming down her face.

OoOoO

She locked herself in the room for the rest of the day. Mallory spent most of the time crying and moping, while Cecily banged on the door and demanded to be let in. Mallory refused, and after about an hour of talking to a door, Cecily gave up and left.

Cecily leaving made her feel even more depressed. Great, now she made the only person who liked her go away. Mallory wanted to call Cecily, ask her to come back, but Cecily didn't pick up her phone. Either it was lost or she was screening Mallory's calls out of spite. Probably the last one.

The concept of a family dinner was alien to the Farthing family. Everyone just ate what they wanted, when they wanted, wherever they wanted. Helena Farthing often ate in her office or at the dinner table by herself with a glass of wine, while Mallory kept to her room. Matthias either stuck to the living room with boxes of pizza and his video games or went out with friends into the city. The kitchen had its own chef and team of cooks, who would make anything and everything the Farthing family members desired, and then the wait staff would have it delivered to whatever room those members were currently in. The house had an intercom system that made this convenient and allowed Mallory to avoid all contact with her mother (and vice versa, she assumed).

That night, all Mallory could stomach was chicken soup and ginger ale. Her constant fretting made her feel sick, as stress usually did, and sometimes she just sat on the bathroom floor, expecting to throw up at any moment. When she never did, she went back into her room and lied on her bed, trying to sleep but too restless to dream.

Really, Mallory just wanted to _do_ something. She knew what she saw, she knew what had happened to Matthias, as unbelievable as it seemed, and she knew that there was nothing the police could do about it. They weren't able to do anything before, thirteen years ago, so why would that change now?

But admitting that this was real meant that Mallory had to face her memories, memories of being ridiculed as a child for believing in stupid things like living shadows, shadows that had no body it connected to. Until now, Mallory had convinced herself that _none_ of it was real, that whatever magic she saw must have been just in her head – like the child therapist kept telling her. It was easier that way, even though it directly contradicted what she knew about her own family. It just made it easier to live, to pretend.

Mallory was sure as hell her mother wasn't going to do anything. Like Mallory, she outwardly denied the existence of Magic, and would continue to do so to her grave. Even if it meant her son would never be saved, Helena Farthing would not act on her true beliefs. It was better to protect that secret and never see her son again than risk the truth getting out but still being able to hug Matthias every morning.

Needless to say, Helena Farthing had very skewed priorities.

Mallory was not like her mother. She would not stand around and let the worse happen if she could help it. If the Shadow Man appeared before, he could appear again, and Mallory would be damned if she wouldn't do her best to try to help her own brother.

So, that night, without alerting the house staff, she climbed out her open window and latched onto the vines that covered this side of the house.

Mallory wasn't necessarily afraid of heights, but she realized the value of solid ground beneath her feet when she looked down and immediately received vertigo at the sight of the fifty foot drop.

_Yeah, probably not gonna live through that_, Mallory thought to herself, shaking her head and looking back up. _At least not without a few broken bones_.

Climbing was a difficult process. Every move upward threatened to break the latticework the vines were wrapped around. The constant shaking made Mallory shake herself and by the time she climbed onto the roof, she had to lie down and get her heartbeat to regulate. This would've been a lot easier if there had been a window or door to the roof, but the fact that there was none meant that she didn't really have a choice. Besides, she needed to be somewhere no one could see or hear her.

The woods stretched out on all sides of the house. At least her home at the advantage of seclusion. A single road let out towards the city lights on the horizon. Somewhere in the trees was a gate that kept out any undesirables (for Mallory, that was pretty much everyone).

But she didn't care about her surroundings. The sky was her focus.

She waited for an eternity, hoping to see that Shadow Man. Would he come back after getting Matthias? Would Matthias be able to make it back on his own? Mallory hoped so but she doubted it. He had been drunk out of his mind when he was taken, even now he would still be hung over. Maybe high, too, she had no idea. With enough substance in his body to tranquilize an elephant, Matthias was in no state to defend himself, much less escape.

"Come on!" Mallory shouted at the sky when she finally lost her patience. "I know it was you! I know you took my brother! What the hell are you waiting for?"

Her voice echoed over the treetops but she received no response. Mallory gritted her teeth and stomped her foot as she called out, "Don't try to fool me! I don't care if no one else believes it was you, I _know_ you're real! I know you exist! Why don't you come back down here and deal with someone who's actually _sober_ for once!"

Nothing.

Mallory wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself. What was she thinking? The Shadow Man didn't exist. Her mother was right, she was just a tired and stupid girl who couldn't tell fantasy from reality. Stupid fairy tale books, why did she even bother...

She had just turned around when some flew past the corner of her eye. Mallory spun, nearly losing her balance on the slope of the roof, and fell on her butt before she could fall. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stared at the figure, almost invisible against the sky – except for its glowing eyes, watching her as it hovered in the air above.

_Holy crap_. Mallory wondered if she had just angered some ancient deity and if it was going to smite her now for insulting it. But the Shadow Man remained utterly silent, just floating in the air above her. Mallory had the guts to act first: "_Well_? Where did you take my brother?"

She sounded far too demanding than her position allowed. Mallory wasn't in power, powerless as she was. This creature could fly, it could take full grown men away from their homes. What chance did she have against it?

But instead of attacking, the Shadow lowered its hand, extending it towards her. Mallory gaped, unable to believe what she was seeing. Was it serious? Did it really expect her to take it?

She had hesitated for too long. It lost interest, dropped its hand, and started to turn away. Mallory realized her mistake and jumped to her feet, shouting, "Wait! Wait, let me come with you!"

Mallory didn't know where it would take her. She didn't even know if it would bring her to Matthias. But she had to hope, it was her only chance.

(Besides, she'd rather spend time in a completely unrecognizable location than spend the rest of her life alone with her mother. The very thought sent shudders down her spine).

The Shadow Man turned and took her outstretched hand. Even though it was see-through the hand felt surprisingly solid. And strong. Before Mallory could say anything else, her feet suddenly left the ground and with a rush of wind she was being carried through the air.

Mallory almost panicked, but the Shadow Man had a grip as tough as iron. It wouldn't let go, no matter how much she flailed in the air, like a duck that didn't know how to fly. She made the mistake of looking down again, saw that her house had been reduced to the size of a Lego brick. She could see Los Angeles in the distance, a vast, complex grid of lights. Farther still, she could see the faint glittering of the Pacific Ocean.

Her ears popped several times. The only direction the Shadow Man seemed to be going in was up, towards the stars on the horizon. Mallory looked ahead, noticing that two stars in particular stood out – very bright and actually _twinkling_. Mallory never really paid attention to the stars before. Usually the light pollution just blocked them out. But even these seemed too bright, too large to be real...

They seemed to be flying straight towards them. Specifically, the second star to the right. Something occurred to Mallory, a strange sensation of déjà vu, but she couldn't recall why this felt so significant.

Then they were flying over the ocean. Higher and higher, until she could see the curvature of the earth. The stars seemed too close now – Mallory now could see odd arcs of color around them, like electrons around a nucleus, or the rings of a planet. The star got so close and so bright, in fact, that there was a moment where Mallory couldn't see anything but bright white light.

And when she opened her eyes again, Mallory was no longer flying at the altitude of an airliner. Below her was an island, an island with tall mountains and sandy beaches and a sky so thick with stars it looked like a painting. Where was she? Hawai'i? The Philippines'?

Neither seemed correct. There was no discernible town or city on the island, just thick jungle. On the island she thought she saw bits of lights, like maybe a camp. They flickered out before she could be sure.

Yet, even as they flew over, the clear skies had changed to dark clouds and sudden gusts that threatened to dislodge the Shadow Man's grip on her hand. The dark waters churned below, but Mallory hadn't yet felt afraid. The Shadow Man had such a good hold on her that she didn't think it would actually do the unthinkable.

The Shadow Man let go.


	4. Chapter 4

**Take a wild guess who shows up at the end of this chapter XD**

**Anyways, read and review!**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Mallory screamed as she plummeted through thin air before finally crashing into the rolling black waves below.

_Whoom_. The cold hit her like a brick wall, stunning the girl and leaving her momentarily paralyzed as she sank deeper into its depths. The world went suddenly very quiet as the water muted all sounds of the storm above her.

It wasn't until her chest started to hurt that Mallory realized she had forgotten to take in some air before going under and the terror was enough to shock her system back into action.

At least she could swim. She pushed her chest upwards, kicking with her legs and reaching for the sky. She had just broke the surface and opened her mouth to take in a lungful of air when a wave hit her in the face, filling her mouth with salty water and forcing her back under. Mallory choked, only to swallow more of the sea and in turn struggling to breath as she tried to get back up again.

The waves slammed her back and forth. She couldn't keep herself up for very long before another curl crashed into her face or back, forcing her farther away from the dark, distant shore. Mallory tried to scream for help but they were just taken by the wind. The effort to just find air to breath was taking all the energy out of her. Mallory was becoming so fatigued that she needed the air to just keep moving and not drown out of exhaustion.

When a crest took her under again, Mallory could feel her kicks getting weaker, her attempts to fight the storm weakening. Then, when she went under again, she couldn't get back up.

Her heart was like a rabbit, beating too hard and doing everything it could to survive the freezing waters that threatened to overtake it. Mallory tried to see in the dark water but saw nothing. Was this really going to be the last thing she saw? Would her first and only trip to Neverland end with her never even reaching the sandy shore? Is there were her quest ended, right before it could even begin?

Mallory's vision faded in and out, pockets of memory just gone. She couldn't recall what happened, just that she must've fallen unconscious. If she died, maybe she would be asleep or something. It was the only pleasant thought she could allow herself at this moment.

Her lungs burned for air, but her arms and legs felt too heavy to move. Mallory could feel herself sinking and was horrified to find that there was nothing she could do to stop it. She wanted to scream in rage and helplessness, but she couldn't even manage that.

Maybe it was right that her mother saw Matthias as the special one. Matthias would've known how to escape this situation; he would've been both smart enough and strong enough to beat the storm. With his magic, he was powerful, he was great.

Mallory, with her nothing, was nothing.

Then something wrapped around her leg. Mallory thought it was seaweed, that she had finally reached the bottom and was about to meet her watery grave. Was she about to be issued a combination for Davy Jones' Locker?

But the seaweed didn't act like seaweed. Instead of pulling her down, it was taking her _up_, and much faster than Mallory initially inspected. Although she was barely conscious and couldn't see anything, she was aware of its pull and the sensation of something hitting the back of her head, catching her arms, pulling her up and out of the water.

Mallory gasped as the air met her lips. Then immediately started throwing up water, suffocating all over again as she couldn't stop long enough to get in more air. Just when she was terrified of going unconscious again, Mallory was able to suck in oxygen and fell slack in whatever had pulled her out of the water.

Shivering with cold, half-dead and too exhausted to move aside from breathing, Mallory didn't even hear the loud bell ringing and the shouts of men before realizing what she on. Or _in_, as the case may be.

Her arms rubbed against some rough and cold. Forcing herself to open her eyes, Mallory realized it was rope, all around her in the shapes of diamonds. A net. She had been caught!  
And she wasn't alone, either.

Something was still wrapped around her legs. It was slimy and scaly, and at first she thought it was fish. She seemed to be in a fish net, after all, and she wasn't half wrong. The other half, however was a woman, glaring at her as if she was offended to be sharing a fish net with another person.

Mallory gaped at the woman with the fish tail. The scales glittered green and purple in the week orange light...wherever _that_ was coming from. Then she looked around, and realized she was hanging over a wooden deck. Men in striped shirt and kerchiefs around their heads were running about below her, and she was relieved. She had been saved! These sailors, these fishers would help her. Then Mallory noticed that they were armed with swords and flintlock pistols. Wait, flintlock pistols? What kind of sailors were these?

She was still reeling with the mermaid. That's what she was, right? What else could she be?

"Bring 'er down, boys!" someone called, a male with a deep, rough voice. There was a sudden jerk as the net was lowered to the deck. It stopped a few feet from the wood. Mallory could reach through the holes in the net and touch it, but she was too weak to try.

She was covered in seaweed and was freezing cold. In front of her, two black boots appeared, thick leather worn with salt and age. Slowly, her gaze panned up to see the blue pants, the black coat with gold buttons, the red sash at his waist, the close-shaven red beard and tricorn hat. The man himself couldn't have been older than his forties, but he had a thick scar going over one eye, rendering it white and blind. He was smiling down at her, arms crossed. His teeth were almost completely black. He called to the men surrounding the net. "Well, well, well, look what we have here, gentlemen! Looks like this little lass got herself in a mite of trouble."

The men laughed, clearly unconcerned that she had been drowning just a minute ago. Mallory scowled, already deciding she didn't like these sailors. "Let me out! I need to get to shore!"

Her voice was stronger than she expected it to be. Mallory surprised herself – the air was doing a lot more than she expected. She already felt able enough to sit up in the net, but decided not to. She could already smell the stench of these unwashed men and decided the seaweed was better.

"That's not how it works, little girl," the man in the black coat replied, shaking his head with another chuckle. "See, if Pan wanted you on his island, then you would _be_ on that island. Why do you think we're out here, fishing for mermaids?" he flashed a smile at the fish-tailed woman sharing the net. "We just want to have a little chat with you, that's all."

"I do not negotiate with pirates!" the mermaid shouted, throwing her shoulders back with a look that screamed dignity and disgust. "My queen will have your head for this!"

"Oh, she can try," the man laughed.

Mallory could feel the blood draining from her face. She pointed a shaky finger up at him, whispering, "Y-you're pirates?"

"Well, what did you think we were?" the man in the black coat said, throwing her an odd look. "Her Majesty's Royal Navy?"

"Then you must be Captain Hook!" Mallory exclaimed.

"Captain Hook?" the man blinked. Then he burst out laughing, and his men along with him. He slapped his knee with his hand. Mallory noticed that neither of them bore a hook. "Lass, I'm not that lovesick excuse for a pirate. No, you may know me as Captain Flint, greatest pirate and ship plunderer the world has ever known! Welcome aboard my ship, the _Jolly Roger_!"

Mallory made a face. Lovesick wasn't exactly the word she'd use to describe Captain Hook. But Captain Flint? The name sounded familiar, yet Mallory couldn't remember where she had heard it. Another book, perhaps, or a movie. She was so terrified at the moment that she couldn't recall.

Then Captain Flint drew his cutlass, leveled it at Mallory's throat, and asked in a low voice, "And don't you forget it. As the residents of Davy Jones' Locker knows, I have little patience for fools and tricksters. Are you either?"

"Nope," Mallory quickly shook her head, trying to edge away from the edge of the blade. "Not a fool, not a trickster, just a girl."

"Hmm," Captain Flint eyed her for a moment before putting away his sword. "Odd, for the Shadow to take a girl. You'd think Pan would've knocked some sense into it by now."

"Should we leave her to him?" a man in a red cap asked. He seemed almost elderly in comparison to the rest, with a white beard and eyebrows

"Ah, and give him another little follower? I don't think so." Captain Flint laughed, turning to the man. "Now, Mr. Smee, why don't you go fetch the knives? I feel our mermaid friend here will need a little bit of convincing before she lets us into her Lagoon."

Mr. Smee, the man in the red cap, nodded quickly and dashed away, through some doors that led down on stairs into darkness. The belly of the ship, where they stored the cannons, the kitchen, and the loot. Mallory still couldn't believe she was in the presence of pirates. Would they kill her? They didn't seem interested in letting her go.

She tried to sit up, her arms shaking with the effort. Captain Flint turned around and peered closer to the rope, reaching in and extending a finger towards the mermaid's face. In a sickly sweet voice, he said, "Oh, please, Calliope, will you tell me where your secret Lagoon is? I promise to leave you and your sisters unharmed."

Calliope wrinkled her nose, looking disgusted. When Flint tried to touch her face, she snapped, almost taking his finger off. But the Captain was faster, drawing his hand away and wagging a finger, "Ah-ah-ah! You keep doing that, and you can say good-bye to little Apolline. I can't ensure your sisters' safety if you keep acting like that, Calliope."

"Drop dead," was the mermaid's reply.

Captain Flint laughed. Smee returned, red-faced and huffing, with a large tin box. He opened it for Captain Flint, who looked inside at the array of some very sharp utensils. None of them had been washed recently. "Well, I had hoped I didn't have to do this, but you're not giving yourself very many options, Calliope."

That's when Mallory started to eye his sword. It was so close. Perhaps she could reach it, pull it out and break out of here? She was just starting to reach for it when Flint moved and she immediately drew her hand in. He didn't notice, however, and just pointed at one of his men. "You! Grab the net, make sure she doesn't thrash too much."

"Aye, aye, sir," the man he pointed at saluted and came on over. He had a thick black beard with a green kerchief around his head and two swords at his side. Mallory tried to ease away from him, the stench making her eyes water, but there was nowhere to go inside the net. The man took hold of the net with his big, meaty hands, planting his feet to the deck as the mermaid's tail started to twitch anxiously.

"Ah, this might do," Flint rose what looked like a medieval version of a scalpel, then turned back to the mermaid with a saccharine smile. "I'm going to ask you one last time, mermaid. Where. Is. Your. Lagoon?"

"I'll die before I'll ever tell you anything," the mermaid declared, challenging Flint with a furious snarl.

"A situation easily remedied," Flint replied, with perhaps a bit too much ease. He drew in, extending the scalpel towards the mermaids face. Mallory hadn't noticed until now, but the mermaid was all tangled up in the net, her arms pinned and knotted into the ropes. She couldn't raise a hand to defend herself as the scalpel drew across her cheek. A thin streak of blood washed half of her face red.

The mermaid flinched but did not cry out. Flint seemed disappointed and raised the scalpel to her eye. "You're making this a lot harder than it has to be, Calliope."

Calliope just glared at him and clamped her mouth shut.

Every horror movie flashed inside Mallory's head as she watched helplessly from the other end of the net. She could barely handle the fake gore on screen, she wasn't sure if she could take it in real life. Just as the edge of the blade was centimeters from the mermaid's eye, Mallory did the first thing that came to mind.

She lunged forward, her arm shooting out of the net and grabbing Flint's sword just a few feet away. The captain shouted in surprise as she yanked the sword out of its sheath and pulled back before he could stop her.

A big meaty hand fell on her shoulder. The other pirate, holding onto the net. Mallory pulled away, managing to get to her feet inside the net and slashing with the sword as hard as she could.

The blade sliced through the rope like it was made of twine. The tension holding her up was suddenly released and Mallory hit the ground, the seaweed around her making a loud slapping sound. Just as Flint and the black-bearded pirate lunged for her, she jumped back and onto the wooden railing of the ship.

The mermaid had slipped out of the net, her arms coming free as she scrabbled for purchase on the slick wooden surface. Without any legs, the mermaid didn't have an advantage, but her tail quickly proved effective as she slapped it across the deck, knocking Flint and any nearby pirates onto their backs.

Still gripping the sword, Mallory held it up towards any pirate who dared come near her. With a thrashing mermaid below her, no one came any closer. The pirates watched her, eyes wide. Were they afraid of her? The idea made Mallory smile.

She shifted her stance, about to make some badass speech. Then her footing slipped and she fell backwards off the ship.

_Splash!_

The water seemed to have gotten colder since she left it. Mallory felt something bump into her underwater. She still had her grip on the sword and hoped that if it was some shark about to attack, she could defend herself.

But no. A hand wrapped around her wrist, yanking with surprising force. Mallory thought that maybe one of the pirates had jumped in after her, but when she opened her eyes under water, Mallory saw that it wasn't a man at all. It was a mermaid. Calliope, to be specific. She must have followed Mallory soon after she fell.

The mermaid pulled Mallory away from the boat. It glimmered above the water, its flames dancing across the surface like sparklers on the water. Mallory's head broke the surface of the water at some point and she realized she was being taken to shore.

The mermaid must have forgotten that humans couldn't breathe underwater because that's where Mallory was for most of the journey being pulled to shore. By the time Mallory's legs were skimming against sand, her lungs were screaming for oxygen. The mermaid finally let go and Mallory threw herself forward onto the surf, throwing her head up and sucking in a lungful of air.

As she lay spluttering in the shallows, the mermaid's head appeared behind her. Her red-orange hair glimmered in the moonlight –once again, the weather had changed, seemingly on a dime. Mallory turned and called out, "Why did you save me?"

"You set me free, girl," Calliope replied. She didn't seem particularly happy about being alive. Maybe she was a little irked to have been saved by a human. "This is me repaying my debt. But do not expect warm welcomes from the mermaids, we are not your friends."

And with that, she disappeared. A flash of scales, and then nothing.

Mallory was still heaving for breath. She watched the water for a few more seconds before facing the sand once more and dragging herself out of the water. Her clothes dragged her down, as did the cutlass that she still kept in an iron grip. Mallory didn't know what dangers waited for her ahead, but if her introduction to the pirates meant anything, this road was going to get pretty rough.

A soft wind blew, sending chills all over Mallory's body. She hugged her arms, looking around and hoping to find some sort of shelter to take for the night. Sand and water in her shoes, Mallory's movements were sluggish and painful. The initial fall alone had left her sore and exhausted. Right now, she felt as though she could just collapse on the sand and sleep for an age.

She made it to the trees before finally allowing herself to sit down. Strange noises came from deep within the jungle, high screeches and whines from a variety of animals. Mallory wiped some wet hair from her face, looking around for any danger. She was terrified of going to sleep, wondering if something may attack her while she dreamt.

Just as Mallory started to settle in at the base of a tree trunk, a voice spoke behind her. "Hello."

Mallory yelped, jumping to her feet and whirling around. As she did so, she took her sword and aimed it in the direction of the voice.

The tip of her blade came nary a few inches from the throat of her would-be attacker. Not a pirate, as she assumed, but a boy. A boy with blond hair and glittering green eyes.

He had his hands up in surrender, in case she thought of finishing the job. "Be careful with that. You might hurt someone."

It was going to take a lot more than that to convince Mallory to put down her weapon. Scowling, she demanded, "Who are you? What do you want? Where am I?"

The boy blinked at her, his confusion apparently trumping his fear as he dropped his hands and threw her a wry smile. "Well, don't you know?"

"Know what?" Mallory asked, watching him with wary eyes. When he took a step forward, she made a quick step back. "Just tell me already!"

"It's only the place of dreams and legends." The boy's smile grew wider. He splayed his arms out, as if welcoming her. "You're in Neverland, girl."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

There was a long second where Mallory just stared at the boy. Then she started to laugh.

Neverland? Seriously? Who did this kid think she was? Sure, Magic may exist but _this_? This was ridiculous.

The boy frowned at her. "What's so funny?"

He had an English accent and in her opinion made him a lot less threatening. Mallory dropped her sword. Any kid who thought Neverland was real was an idiot. Still laughing, she told him, "Do I look I was born yesterday? Neverland doesn't exist! It's just a fairy tale for little kids to dream about. I don't know where you think we are, but it's definitely not Neverland."

The boy just smirked at her, folding his arms across his chest. He stepped out of the shrubbery he had been hiding in. He surprised Mallory by being taller than her. So, not _just_ a boy, then. "All right, then. If you're so smart, tell me where we really are?"

"Well," Mallory said, motioning towards the land around them. "We're clearly on a tropical island in the Pacific. I mean, its small enough to go unnoticed on a map. Maybe we're on one of those Hawaiian Islands no one else is allowed on. It could be anywhere, really."

"So, you have no idea, then," the boy just shook his head, unconvinced. He pointed out to see, at the ship sailing in the distance. "And I'm sure that pirates, with their swords and cannons, are very common on this Pacific you speak of."

Mallory felt her confidence start to fade. She bit her lip, wondering how to rationalize _that_. Where did those pirates come from? For that matter, where did the boy? He seemed to have popped out of nowhere. She turned back to him, scowling, "I don't know! I don't have an answer for everything, but I _know_ we're not on Neverland. It doesn't exist! It's not real!"

"You're just having trouble believing, that's all," the boy shrugged his shoulders. His dress surprised her – it seemed to be made of plants and wood bark, almost entirely green in color. He fixed her with a sharp look. "So if this place isn't Neverland, how did you get here?"

"I–" Mallory was about to give a smart reply, but stopped herself when she realized how stupid the answer would be. Instead of telling the truth, she said, "I don't know."

"You don't know?" the boy made a face, like he didn't quite believe her. "What? So you just woke up on this beach, not a clue how you got here? Come on, you're gonna have to try better than that."

"Fine, but you wouldn't believe me anyways," Mallory replied, scowling. "It sounds stupid, but a Shadow brought me here."

"Are you sure?" the boy tilted his head, almost mocking.

"Well, you don't have to make fun of me!" Mallory threw her arms up in the air. Huffing, she turned around and started stomping away. She had enough with this annoying, crazy boy. "Why did I even bother?"

"You're leaving all ready?" the boy called out behind her. He didn't seem to be trying to catch up. "You haven't even asked about your brother yet!"

Mallory came to an abrupt stop. Slowly, she turned around. The boy was still standing there, a smirk on his face. She raised her sword, every sense on high alert. In a low voice, she asked, "How did you know about that? Who are you?"

This was no ordinary boy. Mallory knew that now. The way he smiled, the way his eyes shined too brightly – he knew something, he knew far more than he should for some crazy island boy. There was a creeping feeling in the back of Mallory's mind, that she was not safe here. That even though she had the sword, this boy still had the upper hand.

The boy looked down at her sword, suddenly interested in it. He raised a hand to touch it, eyebrows rising. "Is that...is that Captain Flint's sword?"

"Yeah," Mallory said, straightening a little. The way the boy said the pirate's name meant that this was something she should be proud of. "So what if it is?"

"Incredible," the boy muttered to himself, tilting his head as he analyzed the blade for a few more seconds. He seemed completely unperturbed that it was aimed at his throat.

Mallory didn't quite hear him. "What was that? Speak up."

The boy looked back at her, a new glimmer in his eyes. "Do you like to play games?"

Mallory shifted on her feet, unsure where he was going with this. He sounded oddly enthusiastic about it. "Uh, I guess. Depends on the game. Why?"

"Because I like playing games." The boy replied, placing his hands behind his back and starting to move. Mallory didn't let the sword waver away from him. He started to circle around her, eyes twinkling with glee. "Let's play one, right now."

"Yeah, no thanks," Mallory said, squinting at him. She didn't even know the boy's name yet but she already knew that he was a total wild card, someone she should never trust.

"Oh, but you haven't even heard what it is yet!" the boy complained. "Believe me, if you give it a try, you'll like it."

"All I want," Mallory took a deep breath before she could lose her patience and slice the boy's throat before she wanted to. "Is answers. I want to know where my brother is."

"And I want to have some fun," the boy shot back. He had now made a complete circle around Mallory and was going for another. Mallory scowled. Was he trying to make her dizzy? "If we play my game, we get to have the best of both worlds. I have fun, you get answers. How does that sound?"

Mallory considered it for a moment. The boy's face was indiscernible, so she couldn't tell what he was really thinking, although she didn't doubt it wasn't something good. He hadn't tried very hard to convince her, seemed expectant of her decision like he already knew what she was going to say. "All right, fine. What's this stupid game of yours?"

"Oh, it's fairly simple." The boy was grinning again, excited that she had finally agreed. He practically hopped with glee. Mallory was a little concerned. No kid like him should be this happy about getting to play a game. "I tell you what to do, and you do it. If you do it _right_, then you get your answers. How does that sound?"

"What are you going to ask me to do?" Mallory asked, a cold creeping feeling going down her back. That didn't sound like a fun game at all.

"Well, if I told you ahead of time, it wouldn't be fair, now would it?" The boy replied. "You have to _earn_ your reward, Mallory."

"Fine. But can you at least give me a hint or advice or something?" she tried – she didn't know what to expect and figured she could use all the help she could get. "A sporting chance?"

The boy chuckled, bowing his head for a moment as he kicked up a bit of sand. "Oh, all right, you've convinced me, Mallory. This game...this game is going to be a little rougher than your run-of-the-mill Simon Says. In fact, I'd say it would be rather dangerous. Life-threatening, even. You might have to fight a couple pirates, slay a few dragons, who knows. On Neverland, anything is possible."

Mallory's breath hitched in her throat. She swallowed, but her voice still cracked when she said, "O-okay. Are-are there any rules I have to follow?"

The boy casted a sly smile at her. "Ah, clever of Mallory, I almost forgot. Yes, there are, in fact. Whatever I say, you must do, no matter how much you don't want to. If you refuse to do anything, or make someone else do it for you, then the game is forfeit and you lose and you don't get what you want. You can't ask for help from anyone else and you can't tell anyone the game we're playing. If you do, you lose. If you leave this island, you lose. If you try to kill me, you lose. Any questions?"

It seemed pretty clear to her. He brought a finger up, pushing away the blade she was threatening him with. Mallory paused to think for a second, sensing that something was off in this conversation. It didn't hit her until half-way through when she started talking again: "No, I don't thi..."

The boy watched her, brow furrowing. "What?"

"I-I never told you my name." Mallory paused, taking a half-step back.

The boy made his fourth rotation and stopped, blinking at her. "No, I know."

Mallory took a deep breath. Maybe it wasn't so surprising – if this boy knew she was Matthias' sister, then he probably knew her name. But that didn't mean she was okay with it. She prodded him with her sword, pressing it against his chest. "Well, then, tell me your name. It's only fair."

"That's not a rule," the boy said, shaking his head.

"It's not about the game," Mallory countered, pushing him back with her sword. Oh, she was going to have his name, whether he liked it or not. "It's so I know what to call you. So I know who to tell my family about when I get back."

That last sentence she improvised, but Mallory supposed a bit of flattery, as strange as it seemed, would help a little. She was right. The boy seemed pleased with the thought and said, "All right. But if I tell you, that means you agree to the terms of the game and it starts right then. No compromises."

Mallory dropped her sword, realizing how soon this was about to happen. She didn't think she was ready, she wanted more time to prepare. But it seemed as though she didn't have a choice. "I agree to your terms."

The boy stuck out his hand. "Shake on it?"

Mallory stared at his hand, wondering his sincerity. Seeing as it couldn't hurt, and that this was a game based heavily on its rules, she might as well get all the insurance she could fine. She took his hand, about to speak when the boy's grip started to crush her hand, making Mallory cry out.

The boy yanked, making Mallory trip and she rammed into him. For a boy so thin, he was incredibly strong, and when he wrapped his other arm around her back, pinning her in place.

His grip around her was so tight that Mallory couldn't breathe. Her heart pounded against her chest. Could he feel it? Mallory was sure he could sense her fear. She strained against his grip but could not break free. How could he be so strong?

The boy brought his lips to her ear, whispering, "Nothing happens on Neverland without my say so. My name is Peter Pan, and this is my island. So I suggest you start running."

And with that, he pushed her back, sending Mallory sprawling into the sand dunes. When she looked up again, he was gone.

When Mallory got up, she was in the middle of brushing wet sand off her clothes when she heard something that made her start and whirl around. Distant whoops and cheers, somewhere in the woods. As the seconds passed, the sounds got louder and closer.

Mallory saw the torches and figures flashed between the trees higher up on the hill beyond. Less than half a mile away, what looked like a hunting party was heading towards the beach. She stumbled in the sand, picking up her sword and watching their descent.

The first head broke through the brush and spotted her instantly. He pointed, just as more appeared behind him. "There she is! Get her!"

Mallory saw their bows and swords. She turned and started to run.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Mallory's lungs were on fire. She didn't think she had ever run so fast in her life.

She wasn't exactly a stranger to exercise. The demands of society, especially in the realm of celebrity (and under the watchful gaze of Shari) meant that Mallory had been kept on a strict diet and exercise regimen. She was a better runner than a lifter, but even then it was for appearance only and she never really had to motivation to compete in anything. Mallory certainly never bothered to find out how fast she could _really_ go.

Of course, there was no better motivation than a horde of bloodthirsty wild boys chasing her.

She didn't have a lot of options on where to go. The ocean definitely wasn't an option, certainly not after the warning the mermaid left her with. Mallory could only head further down the beach, in the hopes of out running these boys, who thankfully were younger and for the most part shorter than her. She also had a decent headstart. If she got far enough ahead, Mallory could head into the jungle without fear of being cornered by a flanking party.

But Mallory was starting to fear she wouldn't make it that far. It had to be at least a minute, if not two, and Mallory could only go for so long at a full-sprint, having already been exhausted by a swim in the sea. She had to think of something fast.

Her desire for survival kept Mallory going longer than she thought. She spotted a palm tree ahead, marked it for her turning point. If she still had some distance on the boys once she reached that tree, she would head into the woods. They had the advantage of knowing the land better, but boys being boys she wondered just how good at tracking they would be, especially in the manic state they were. It was the only chance she had.

Arrows flew down from above. Thankfully, she was far enough ahead that kept them from being good shots, but one arrowhead came narrowly close to her head and Mallory decided to cut into the jungle ahead of time.

Swerving at an almost ninety degree angle, Mallory charged into the forest, those boys hot on her heels.

Mallory burst through those first bushes, leaves and branches smacking against her face and shocking her system. The pain gave her a short burst of adrenalin and helped her forward. She held her sword at her side, in case something needed to be sliced out of her way.

Jumping over a log, Mallory allowed herself a tiny smile when she heard the yelling and shouting falter a little bit. So the boys weren't expecting her to come in here, or weren't looking forward to following her. Charging as a group into the thick woods was not as easy when you were doing it on your own, as it seemed.

Mallory cut down some stalks of bamboo as she made her way through another thicket. Using the sword, its ease of use, made her feel incredibly strong and lethal, even if they were just a bunch of plants.

She came across a path of trodden leaves and cut branches – something the boys must've made some time ago. Mallory paused, wondering if _that_ was why the calls got quiet. They had these trails to follow, then they could move quietly and stalk her down like an animal...

The paranoia gave Mallory another burst of speed, darting off the path and into the trees again. No, it was best to avoid any signs of civilized life, as primitive as they seemed.

Mallory spotted a length of rope on the ground a second before she jumped over it. A loop, like it was meant to catch her foot. Oh, good, they had traps set up in the woods as well, wonderful.

At some point Mallory realized she was making so much noise getting through these woods that it wouldn't be very hard to follow her, no tracking skills required. Perhaps that's why it had gotten so quiet around here. She came to an abrupt stop in the middle of her run and ducked behind a large tree, its roots big enough to hide her entire body.

Taking deep breaths to calm down and silence her panting, Mallory crouched down and hide beneath the ferns. She counted the seconds as they went by, holding her cutlass close to her body. Come on, come on, she _knew_ she was being followed...

Twenty seconds after she hid, Mallory heard the crunch of footsteps on dead leaves. She held her breath and curled up a little tighter as she felt hunters walk by, pausing near the place where she had stopped to hide.

There was a moment of silence. Then a low voice said, "The tracks stop here."

"I don't hear anything, either," another boy said, his voice higher, younger. "You think she's onto us."

"She's a stupid girl," the low voice said, snapping a branch off a nearby sapling. "She panics and runs. I wouldn't be surprised if she gets eaten by a bear or a lion. Come on, let's head back see if any of the snares have caught anything."

"But what about Pan?" the younger voice said, sounding nervous. Out of the corner of her eye, Mallory saw the boy's shadow. He seemed so small to be living in a forest. "Won't he be angry with us for not getting her?"

"Pan has his own plans," The older one replied. Mallory could hear him turn and starting to walk back the way he came. "Whether we catch her or not doesn't matter. He just had to keep her on the island somehow. I don't suspect she'll last very long, though."

"Yeah, what was Pan thinking?" the younger one snickered. Their voices were getting smaller and smaller as they disappeared back into the woods. "Bringing a _girl_ here..."

Mallory made a face, feeling offended. Jerks.

She waited ten minutes before finally getting up again. Mallory made sure there was no one following her before continuing her journey further into the woods. This time, however, she kept her steps slow and quiet, doing her best not to disturb the wildlife. She needed a place to hide for the night. Who knew how many hunters there were still looking for her, still looking for Peter Pan's approval?

That's what it was about, right? These boys were with Peter. They were the Lost Boys. That much Mallory remembered – and she hadn't seen any other girls, either, so that kind of affirmed her assumption of why those two hunters thought she'd get herself killed out here. Well, she'd show them!

Eventually, Mallory came across a steep rock wall, the bottom of a cliff. She looked around, hoping for some cover. The night was still dark and she feared that it would start raining again. Mallory would prefer not getting wet twice in the same night.

She ducked into a small crevice she found. It wasn't particularly comfortable, laying on the rocky ground (on an empty stomach, no less), but Mallory chalked it up to living a soft life in Hollywood. She had never even been camping before and realized that she was at a severe disadvantage on Neverland, and not just because it was unknown terrain. Mallory didn't know the first thing about outdoor survival and wondered if that would be her downfall, not Peter Pan's little game.

Keeping her sword close to her side, Mallory curled and tried to get as comfortable as possible, using her arm as a pillow. That night of sleep was restless and painful. Mallory was constantly worried that the sun would rise too soon but night here seemed to last unnaturally long. Just when she finally managed to get some sleep, she had to be woken up by the sound of her own stomach grumbling.

The ache of an empty stomach was physically painful. Mallory wanted to keep sleeping, but her throat was so dry she knew she needed to get up and find at least _something_ to consume.

She wished she had put some more planning into this endeavor. At least a water bottle or something, maybe even a sweater, even though she was currently living in a jungle.

She hadn't dared eat any fruit she came across. Mallory didn't recognize any of the plants and strictly avoided anything with thorns – she was stupid, but not _that_ stupid. Mallory knew better than to eat or touch anything until she knew its name and whether or not it was edible. She came across a stream and cupped her hands in the freezing cold water. The water was sweet and refreshing, easing the pain in her throat and sending a surge of energy in her system. Mallory wished she had a way to carry some water with her, but since she didn't, she decided to continue walking alongside the stream.

Mallory didn't know where she was going. She wasn't even sure what she was looking for. She was just waiting for something to happen.

And, of course, it did.

Having upon a clearing, Mallory looked around. A tiny mouse scurried across her feet, making the girl jump in surprise. After calming herself, Mallory took note of how large, how high these trees were. Did jungles have conifers? That didn't seem right to her.

She walked up to one of the trees, touching the tree trunk. It was rough and sticky to the touch. Pinecones and dead needles crunched beneath her feet. Mallory was just about to leave when she turned around.

Someone was standing right behind her.

Mallory jumped back, uttering a strangled cry as her hand flew to her chest. But the boy just smirked, pleased by her reaction.

"Hello." Peter Pan said. "Are you ready for your first test?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the belated update! The new semester hit me like the proverbial unexpected zombie horde, and by the time I noticed it, there were too many of them to fight off (i.e. homework). So a lot of things are messed up and I've been trying to write all my stories at once and this was the first one I finished. So on to the others!**

**anyways, I hope you enjoy! Please read and review.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

"Test?" Mallory took a _huge_ step back. "You said it was just a game."

"Same difference." Pan replied with a careless shrug. His expression was far too pleasant for her to trust.

Mallory continued to eye him with suspicion. "What are you testing me for?"

The boy smiled at her, green eyes twinkling with mischievous glee. "Nothing at all, I swear. But if you're going to get all caught up with this 'test' idea, fine, I'll give you an answer. I seek to please, after all."

Mallory raised her eyebrows, throwing him a look of disbelief.

Peter Pan seemed to understand what she was thinking. He just shook his head and smiled. "One day, you'll understand."

"Well, I'm not going to be here for that long," Mallory replied, crossing her arms and watched Pan carefully as he walked away to pick up a rock from beneath some dead needles. "So, what are you testing me on?"

"Bravery," Pan said, standing up. He tossed the stone between his hands, explaining, "I need to know if you're really up for this game, Mallory. This isn't for the faint of heart. That's why you're going to collect some fairy dust."

Mallory almost laughed. Still her words choked on stifled snickers as she said, "Ha, right, because going up against a little fairy is _so_ brave. What are you going to make me do, fight Tinker Bell?"

Peter Pan snorted but didn't answer right away. Mallory paused, wondering if she unintentionally said something significant. If she did, the boy didn't tell her. Instead, he said, "Oh, no, nothing like that. If you went up against Tinker Bell, then the game would be over before it got a chance to be fun. I rather prefer you face a challenge where you actually stand a chance at winning."

"Oh," she frowned, not liking either implication – of fairies being real and that they were apparently dangerous as well. Was Pan doing her a favor? "Um, thanks."

"Ah, don't thank me yet." Peter Pan held up a finger, wagging it in her face. Mallory swiped at it and glared at his impish grin. "I haven't even given you your challenge yet."

"Then spit it out all ready!" Mallory exclaimed, throwing her hands up into the air. She was getting impatient with this boy. Where the hell was she supposed to find fairy dust if it didn't involve fairies? "What am I supposed to do?"

He pointed over her head. "Climb."

"What?" Mallory spun around, looking up. Her eyes widened in dread; the only thing behind her was the gigantic pine trees. The tips swayed back and forth in the wind, so thin that even a squirrel couldn't hang on. Her stomach dropped at the sight.

Rendered speechless, Mallory was absolutely petrified and unable to move. That was why she didn't react when Pan appeared at her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He said, "At the very top of those trees are flowers that collect fairy dust. But that shouldn't be a problem for you, Mallory. It's not like you're afraid of heights or anything."

Mallory's throat was as dry as dehydrated ice cream. She tried to swallow, but that just made it worse. She was already in a cold sweat at just the thought of climbing. The boy had gone silent, awaiting her answer with an expectant look. But Mallory couldn't say anything.

"You're awfully quiet," Pan said, squeezing her shoulder in false reassurance. She glanced at him and saw that look of smugness on his face. Oh, Pan knew exactly what he was doing. "Don't tell me you're scared. Because if you are, I could always find something a little easier..."

"No!" Incredibly, it was Mallory's own pride that galvanized her. She shoved him away, taking in a deep, nasally breath before saying, "I'll do it. I'll climb the stupid tree."

Peter had stumbled trying to regain his balance but looked as unperturbed as before. He shook off the blow and gave her a cheerful smile, in a way that told Mallory that she just gave him what he wanted. "Ah, I knew you'd come around! Here, for luck."

He tossed the stone to her. Mallory dropped her sword in the attempt to catch it, but only ended up looking foolish when she dropped the stone. Embarrassed, Mallory blew the hair out of her face as she bent down and picked up the stone. She examined the entirely unextraordinary gray rock and said, "Why? What does it –?"

When she looked up, Pan was gone. Her shoulders slumped as her question ended on a dull note. "...do?"

Mallory looked around, but the boy had indeed disappeared. How did he do that? Mallory had never heard anything move so swiftly, so quietly. He must be some sort of ninja. Or maybe he had magic powers. Either way, Pan was still dangerous. Tucking the stone into her back pocket, Mallory uttered a sigh of resignation and turned to the tree she was about to overcome.

The bark was sticky when she touched it. The roughness cut into her skin and Mallory regretted not having brought her hiking boots with their grippy treads. The branch was seven feet up in the air and Mallory had to shimmy up the trunk before she could reach it. She was already out of breath by the time she managed to wrap her torso around it.

Mallory looked down and huffed out a breath. Her throat was still dry and she wished she had gotten another drink from the river before attempting this, but since she had already made it up this far, she was in no mood to try again. Her shirt was sticky and gross from having to shimmy up it but she decided to keep it on – not only because the air was chilly but because this island seemed to be inhabited entirely by boys and she wasn't an idiot when it came to their nature.

Her legs shook as she stood up on the branch to reach the next one up. Mallory nearly tipped forward and fell, but managed to catch herself at the last moment, clutching to the tree with panicky breath.

Mallory looked up. She had more than fifty feet to go. Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, Mallory steeled her nerves and once more reached for the next branch.

The climbing was slow going. In ten minutes, she had climbed only another eight feet before stopping to catch her breath and keep herself from having a mental breakdown. The branches were strong and barely gave beneath her weight, but one wrong move and Mallory knew it would be a short fall to her end.

Mallory was bad at rock climbing, and that was when she had the safety and security of a harness, rope, and a professional spotter taking care of her from the ground. Now she had nothing, and Mallory's fear was just as bad, if not worse. But she supposed that perhaps that gave her an advantage, even a little bit. She was familiar with this experience, and all that mattered was that her mind believed it was real – both in the past, with the safety, and now, on her own – and she remembered the feeling of finally reaching the top of the rock wall, to brag to Cecily that she did it.

And she was going to do that now. Only this time, she was going to rub it in Pan's face.

Up and up Mallory went. Several times her grip slipped and she dropped to the branch below. She caught herself each time, and each time came closer and closer to her death. Shirt ruined, favorite jeans ripped and knees skinned, Mallory was thinking less of the fairy dust and more of finally getting back down, to touch solid ground again. Her fear became less debilitating and more exhausting. She didn't want to be afraid anymore, but every instinct told her that every foot higher she went, the more it was going to hurt when she fell.

It was all Mallory could do to bite her lip and keep from whimpering in fear. Her heart was pounding, both from adrenaline and effort. It made her arms shake, fingers twitch, knees buckle at the wrong moment.

As the branches got thinner, it was getting harder to lift herself up every time. Each time she felt as though she was getting heavier, like she ate five pounds of meat before every reach. But that didn't make sense. Mallory's stomach grumpled and cramped for food, something she couldn't provide. In her scattered thoughts, Mallory wondered if fairy dust was edible, what it would taste like. Would it be like candy? Would it taste like those Pixie Stix? God, Mallory didn't care if candy was just empty calories, she just needed something in her stomach.

Mallory had twenty feet to go when a voice above her said, "Well, well, well, look at little Mal-Mal go. Oh, is it all right if I call you that?"  
She looked up, wiping the sweat from her eyes as she took in Peter leaning against the tree some five feet up. He seemed incredibly at home, forty feet in the air. She let her chin rest on the branch, letting herself catch her breath as she grunted, "No."

"Aw," Pan sounded disappointed, although Mallory doubted he was really that upset about it. She knew she had just given him a new way to annoy her, in a way a bully tests insults on their victim to see which one gets the best reaction. "That's too bad. Mal-Mal sounded so appropriate, especially for you. Cute and simple."

Mallory grimaced as she lifted herself up, keeping herself from reacting to the implied insult. Pan could try his best, but Mallory had experienced far worst at home. Boys may think they're clever with their name calling, but they stood no chance to the insidious nature of mean girls and their psychological attacks on another's self-esteem.

She had been abused in a myriad of ways, courtesy of Jordan and Kaley – while Mallory didn't have the pleasure of knowing high school, Jordan and Kaley made it easy to figure out. Mallory would get blocked from clubs she used to frequent because the girls tipped off the bouncer, they called the paparazzi whenever Mallory was in town, and were probably the ones trolling Mallory's profile on various social-media sites, spamming rumors and allegations that made everyone want to Unfriend her. Prank calls in the middle of the night, every date with a cute boy ruined because they would sneak in and ruin it somehow. With those two, she couldn't catch a break. Who did Peter Pan think she was, to get annoyed over a stupid nickname?

Oh, no, Mallory was an expert at being bullied. If Pan wanted to see her upset, he'd have to try a lot harder than that.

"All right, what do you think of Mal-Pal?" he tried, to no avail. Mallory continued to climb, her efforts belabored with increasing weight as she went. Pan just watched her go past him. "No? How about Mally?"

She had been called far worse, more offensive words that weren't particularly related to her name. No, Jordan and Riley liked to stick with the classics, calling into question Mallory's gender, sexual promiscuity and orientation, as any bully worth their salt would. Mallory fancied the idea that she had built up a formidable shield against these insults, liked imagining them bouncing off like the stupid little words they were.

"Come on, you've gotta give me something to work with!" Pan called after her after twenty seconds of utter silence. "Don't tell me you've never gotten a nickname before."

"_That's_ what this is about?" Mallory cast down a bewildered look, honestly surprised. She just scoffed and shook her head, reaching for the next branch. "Just leave me alone and we'll get along fine."

"You didn't answer my question," Pan said, only now he was above her again. Mallory did a double take at the sight, almost losing her grip. How did he move like that? No, not a ninja. This definitely had to be magic. "Has anyone ever given you a nickname?"

"No," Mallory replied, coming to a stop at the branch opposite him. She took a couple seconds to breath before continuing, "I've been called a lot of things, Peter Pan, and trust me, they weren't with the intention of friendly nicknaming."

"Wow," his eyebrows shot up. "So I guess you're one of those freaks who doesn't have any friends, huh? You know, I figured you for the loner type, all angry and repressed."

Mallory threw him a dirty look as she stood up, then turned away to hide the red in her cheeks. "Oh, shut up. Just let me get the stupid fairy dust."

Only this time, as she managed another five feet, Mallory definitely felt the new weight, and it wasn't her. It seemed as though something had caught onto her clothes. Was the sap weighing her down? No, something in her pockets. She definitely felt it pulling on her leg. Reaching back, Mallory pulled out the stone, which weighed far more than it did originally. Making a look of disgust, she chucked it down, in the general vicinity of where she remembered Pan to be. "And take your stupid luck back, I don't need it!"

Pan just laughed as the rock soared past his head. Mallory just grumbled to herself and kept going, glad to finally have that weight off.

But it came back shortly after. Mallory was surprised to go back to her pocket and find the rock again. How the hell did it get there? Did Pan sneak it in when she wasn't looking? Or was it Magic? Either way, she didn't care and threw it back down.

The third time the stone returned, Mallory knew it wasn't a fluke. Pan must have enchanted it or something, to get heavier and heavier the higher she went, to make the task already difficult even more so. Maybe he wanted her to die, to watch in thrill as she fell to her death. Honestly, Mallory wouldn't be surprised if that were the truth.

So instead of getting rid of the stone, Mallory kept it there. She wasn't going to waste time getting rid of it while she kept climbing. And if she made it to the flowers with the rock, then all the better.

It had to weigh at least ten pounds by time she reached the flowers, and by then Mallory had to hold it in her hands to keep it from pulling her pants down. At least it gave her an anchor to keep her arms from slipping as she hauled her chest over another high, thin branch. The fear had almost gone now, thanks to her determination and the distraction Pan provided.

She saw the flowers, facing the sky. Purple, shaped like lily's, and their insides glowing yellow-orange. Her first instinct was to touch it, and touch it she did. Mallory reached inside the flower, on her tip toes to reach the flowers hanging over her head.

What felt like glitter met her finger tips. She pulled out her hand, saw the golden dust lacing her fingers. Bizarrely, it made a sound when she rubbed it across her skin. A soft twinkling noise, like wind chimes or the light strings of a harp. It was one of the most beautiful and surreal things Mallory had every experienced, and she just kept rubbing her fingers together to hear more of it.

But what to carry the dust in?

Mallory assumed that Pan wanted actual samples, and she didn't really have deep pockets to put it in. Yet when she reached for her pockets and pulled out the rock, it wasn't a rock anymore – but rather a small pouch, like for keeping a quartz rock in.

Well, Pan certainly had everything all planned out, didn't he? Making a face to herself, Mallory pinched more dust from the flowers and dropped it into the pouch. She repeated this process until the little bag was almost full, then pulled the string to close it. The string made a giant loop, making it easy to just wrap it around her neck.

Mallory was just about to congratulate herself on a job well done. Then she looked down.

Vertigo hit her like a steam engine. In an instant she was breathless as the world swayed back and forth beneath her – whether it was the wind or just in her head, it didn't matter.

She hugged the tree, the branch bending beneath her feet. Looking up didn't help much, either; another twelve feet and the tip of the tree met the sky. Mallory was too scared to move, she could feel her heart slam against her chest, heard it in the wood against her ear.

After having climbed so far up without a single look down, Mallory realized that this was all that she was going to be doing now; looking down. But the very sight of that great distance made her want to throw up. At least in rock climbing, once you climbed to the top, you could just swing back down without having to guess your footwork backwards. How was she going to reach the distance between branches that was taller than she was?

_I want to go home_. Mallory squeezed her eyes shut, since this seemed to be the only logical conclusion to the situation. _I just want this to be over. I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go home!_

A long moment passed where she heard nothing but wind blowing and distant animal calls. Peter Pan had disappeared once again. She imagined he'd be waiting at the bottom, either to see her break her neck or reach the ground and burst into tears. Would it bother him to have to take the fairy dust from a dead body than a live girl?

Mallory hoped the boy would have a little more decency than that, but Peter Pan was a conundrum she could barely wrap her head around.

A minute passed, then another. With no hope of rescue, Mallory knew that the only way to get down was to _make_ herself get back down. Her stomach growled in protest, demanding a meal before starting the descent. But there wasn't a handy fast food restaurant fifty feet in the air, so Mallory had to go without.

And thus began her slow and cautious descent. Climbing down was harder than climbing up; not because of effort, but because one wrong misplaced foot or overbalanced landing and Mallory would tumble beyond the branches.

Yet she surprised herself by managing to get halfway down the tree in less time than it took to climb it. Although it was still a height that could kill her, Mallory didn't worry so much. In fact, she was smiling despite her deep-seated fear. Crouching on a thicker branch, she gauged the distance between her and the one below before sliding her feet off, still clinging to the wood with her hands.

But when Mallory dropped so she was hanging from her two hands, she was horrified to discover that completely extended, she was not tall enough to reach the branch right beneath her. It had to be no more than a foot, but that was enough to make the wrong move.

Exhausted, Mallory didn't have the energy to just hang there and think out her next move. Before she could so much as cry out, the bark slipped past her sweaty fingers and she dropped.

For one hopeful second, her feet met the branch. The second right after, however, came with the awful sound of wood snapping and her breaking through.

Mallory screamed as she plummeted, hitting branches and tree trunk along the way. Her arms spun wildly, searching for anything to grab onto, but only ended up hurting herself further.

She bounced off a large fan of needles and her fall was briefly interrupted and diverted in another direction. Her back hit another branch, tossing her forward and Mallory gasped as she finally managed to grab hold of a limb before continuing her descent.

The blow left her winded and slumped over. It took Mallory a moment to regain her composure. She pulled herself up and looked down.

Twelve feet from the ground. So close.

Mallory was shaking so hard she couldn't breathe. Eventually, she managed to calm down long enough to descend the last few meters to the ground, before collapsing in a heap on the dead needles, panting and trying not to cry.

"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" came a cheerful voice. Mallory looked up at Pan, who was smiling down at her with his hands behind her back.

She grimaced and ripped the pouch of fairy dust from her neck, throwing it at his feet. "Here's your stupid fairy dust."

Bending down to pick it up, Peter Pan just smirked at her. If anything, he seemed pretty pleased with the entire event, like seeing her fall thirty feet, come _this close_ to death, was entirely worth it. If this was how Pan was going start out, Mallory hated to think of what else he had in mind for their stupid game.

"Well done," he said, tossing the bag in his hand before tucking it inside his collar. "You know, for a second there, I really thought you were a goner."

"You seem real torn up about it," Mallory muttered, wondering just how sadistic one had to be to disregard life in such a way. No wonder the Lost Boys were hunting her down like an animal – they probably saw her as nothing more than that.

"Those girlish screams for help were quite impressive," Pan added, as though he never heard her. He waved his hand in the air. "The whole island could hear you. Do you practice your screams, Mallory, or are you just a natural?"

"Shut up," Mallory winced as she picked herself up, noting all the sore points on her body. That fall really did a number on her, Mallory was surprised she didn't have a broken bone. Even as she tried to stand up tall and look somewhat dignified, she nearly keeled over again as her stomach growled, so ferociously that she felt in her throat. "Ugh..."

Pan tilted his head, startled by the noise. "What was that? Your stomach?"

Mallory clutched her belly, trying not to look weak but figuring that was a moot point by now. "Um, yeah."

He just shook his head, like this was funny, being starving or something. "Silly girl, why haven't you eaten anything? Is that what girls do these days, not eat anymore?"

Mallory was sure _some_ prescribed to that kind of diet, but she was not one of them. The idea was terribly sad and not something to be dealing with when trapped on an island full of boys. "Like I have a choice. I can't eat anything here. It's probably poisonous or trying to kill me, too."

"You don't _hunt_ for food in Neverland!" Pan exclaimed, throwing his head back and laughing. Mallory just scowled further, unhappy that her pain was only fueling his amusement. "Honestly, you girls are so stupid."

"Well, how _else_ do you get food here?" she demanded.

"You think it." Pan just shrugged his shoulders, like the answer was obvious and she was stupid for not being able to figure out herself. Seeing her disbelieving look, he held up his hands and said, "Come on, Mally, this is Neverland. Try it yourself."

Mallory continued to cast Pan a suspicious look, then walked past him and towards the river. She wasn't about to make a fool of herself in front of him, instead deciding to wash herself up and somehow salvage her tree-sap-covered clothes.

She stuck her hands in the stream and washed her red and stinging palms. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Pan throw up his hands and saying: "Fine, go and starve. I am sure that stubbornness will do wonders for your brother."

Mallory whipped around to fire off a comeback, but her voice died in her throat when she saw that Peter Pan had once again vanished into thin air.

Oh, that's convenient. Disappear so you can always have the last word.

On the bright side, now she could attempt his advice. Mallory didn't want to hear him rubbing I-Told-You-So in her face, or laughing at her for being so gullible and stupid.

Knees in the riverbed, she paused to let the cool water soothe her aching joints. Then taking a deep breath, Mallory closed her eyes and thought hard. _I wish for..._

Mallory was so hungry she could devour two whole pepperoni pizzas. But would the magic here allow that? Was it really being controlled by Pan, was he really that powerful? Mallory thought it was just bravado, but what if she was wrong? Either way, this entire place seemed so far away from civilization that ovens probably weren't even a thing here.

So instead, Mallory thought of an apple. A juicy, crisp green apple, her favorite. Might as well try something simple.

Something cool touched her hand. The sudden weight made Mallory open her eyes and look down. In the palm of her hand was a bright, shiny apple, perfectly round and still had a stem with a leaf attached, as though it had just been plucked from a tree.

No way. Mallory just stared at the apple, astonished. Then she looked around, wondering if Pan was hiding behind the trees. This had to be some elaborate prank. Since when was _wishing_ food into existence a thing? For all she knew, this apple was poisoned.

But how would Peter Pan have guessed she would wish for an apple? Of all the foods Mallory could've picked, there was no way he could have accurately predicted which one.

There was only one way to find out for sure.

Mallory kept her eyes open, just in case. Pan had a way of moving silently, and she wanted to make sure that this magic thing was him trying to pull a fast one. Standing up, she got out of the water and sat on the rocky shore, focusing on a slab of rock beside her. Magic may be real – it may be powerful – but that didn't mean it could summon restaurant food out of thin air. But all it took was a thought.

First Mallory smelled it. Then before her appeared a large cardboard box, a red image of a pirate ship on its cover. Mallory had never heard of _Davy Jone's Pizzeria_, but the smell of baked dough, cheese, and tomato sauce had her salivating like a basset hound.

Opening the box, Mallory was pleased to discover the pepperoni-and-sausage covered pie. She didn't even think of the sausage, yet whatever magic wish power was out there, it knew her subconscious desires.

Mallory ate the pizza, its cheese still melting, the entire box steaming and filling the air with the aroma. The warmth of the food made her forget about how wet and cold and dirty she felt.

She surprised herself by eating the entire pizza, without a second thought as to calories or fat content – her stomach was happy, and that made Mallory happy.

And then she wondered how powerful this wish thing was.

Of course, she got overexcited. The first thing she tried after eating was wishing herself home, so excited by it that she didn't even consider the consequences if it worked – what would happen to Matthias if she left? For a brief second, Mallory didn't care. This island was a nightmare and she didn't want to spend another second here.

But even as she closed her eyes and thought of home, Mallory already knew it wouldn't work. Perhaps it was because of the deal she made with Pan, or that she knew in her heart that it would be irresponsible of her to leave, to abandon her quest so soon. Even if she wanted to go home, she still had a job to do.

The ground beneath her didn't change. The smell of pizza didn't go away; neither did humid jungle air or the sound of the bubbling river. Shoulders slumping, Mallory sighed and leaned against the rock, the exhaustion returning. Perhaps the magic only worked if her heart was truly into it. Or maybe Pan didn't want her to leave, which was as valid an answer as any.

In no state to continue exploring or find a place to rest, Mallory set up camp beneath the pine trees. She tried to wish a fire to life, but magic or no, the flames needed kindling, so Mallory created a circle of rocks and threw some sticks, dead needles, and the pizza box to help keep the fire going. She dried off her clothes in front of the fire, deciding not to wish for new clothes because that meant she'd have to change into them – and Mallory did not like the idea of walking around in her underwear, even for a few seconds, on the off chance that Lost Boys or Peter Pan (or both) will walk in on her mid-change.

And as she warmed up, Mallory looked up at the sky, the stars, and the moon that never seemed to move from its spot. While it provided a little bit of light, there was certainly something to be desired and Mallory was starting to miss daylight. Maybe at least she could see without needing fire or a flashlight.

Wishing for a pillow and sleeping bag (since wishing for a five star hotel yielded no results), Mallory tucked herself in underneath the dark blue sky, wondering if the sun would ever rise again.


End file.
